


Meetings

by Slothquisitor



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Healing, Lyrium Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slothquisitor/pseuds/Slothquisitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first real conversation Mara and Cullen have. He’s dealing with withdrawal headaches and she helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meetings

Cullen rubbed his eyes as he tried to refocus on the report in front of him. The dull thud of a headache blossoming in the back of his skull. He gritted his teeth together as if he could deny the pain getting a hold, but he knew it was probably too late. Once the pain was there it was too late to do much about it except wait for it to subside. Most days weren’t unbearable, but the days that were bad more than made up for the ones that weren’t.  
On the bad days it was all he could do to make it moment to moment. Sometimes his hands would shake and he’d adopted the habit of holding the hilt of his sword to steady them so that no one would notice. Sometimes the pain was so loud that it drowned everything else out. He could barely walk. His breathing came in gasping bursts and his hands wouldn’t work. It didn’t get that bad often, but when it did he did his best to hide away behind his stacks of reports and remind himself to breathe.   
It had only been a month since the events of the conclave, but already the Inquisition was better off than it had been when it began. Mostly due to the efforts of Mara. She had gone off to the Hinterlands almost immediately after the conclave and the reports they received had documented how she had been able to bring order to the chaos. How people brought their problems to her and she listened. Nothing was too small. That she had taken flowers to the grave of a man’s wife for him had stuck out to him the most. She had made sure to get it done and let the man know.   
Even in Haven, after the unsurety of her first few days she had taken the time to get to know just about everyone in Haven. She knew their names. She often could be found in the kitchens helping the staff or helping Harritt at the smithy.   
But Cullen wasn’t stupid. She had been avoiding him. Most of their conversations had been short, terse, but mostly unsubstantial. Cullen wasn’t sure why it bothered him. She smiled freely with everyone else, laughed and joked, but around him she was almost skittish.   
“Ser, Ambassador Monitilyet needs you in the war room,” a hesitant runner had poked his head in his tent.   
Cullen sighed, “Thank you.” He nodded the runner out. The reports would have to wait; although, it wasn’t as if he was really making much headway on them anyways. He set the report down and made his way to the chantry.   
-  
The meeting seemed to be lasting hours and the dull throb of his headache and grown into a full blown migraine. Even the slightest movement of his head sent waves of pain cascading through his whole body. He was trying to listen to Josephine, but standing was taking too much of his energy to really know what she was saying.   
The Herald had already been dismissed and it was just him and Josephine discussing supplies and new recruits, but she seemed to be droning on and on. It was even hard to see Josephine between the spots on his vision.   
“I think that should be all we need to discuss tonight Commander, don’t you think?” Josephine asked.   
He gripped the war table to avoid swaying, “Yes, I think that should do it. Good night.”  
Focusing on walking took up the next few minutes. He wasn’t far into the main hall of the chantry when he realized that he wouldn’t be able to make it back to his tent. His vision threatened to blacken completely as he pulled the door to the basement open with more force than necessary.   
Close the door. Down the stairs. Then I can lay down. It will pass he reminded himself. His stomach flipped violently as he leaned against the wall on his way down the stairs and he felt his foot miss a step. He fell into the wall. Hard. He groaned as his head protested with another angry wave of pain.   
He barely noticed the dim light of the basement against his darkening vision, but suddenly the realization came to him. He wasn’t alone down here.   
Hands guiding him to the ground….green eyes narrowed in worry and something else, studying…..blonde hair brushing his cheek as she eased him downwards.   
“Cullen, something’s wrong. You need to tell me what’s wrong,” Mara said, mouth pressing into a thin, grave line. He winced at the sound of her voice.   
“Just a headache,” was all he managed. It wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t necessarily the truth either. It didn’t matter.   
“That’s a bit of an understatement. I’m going to help you to somewhere more comfortable, can you move?” Mara asked.   
He grunted in response. Words were too hard to form. He felt her pull him slowly to his feet and she led him to a chair in an alcove. She was stronger than her lithe frame made her seem. Cullen knew he was almost certainly not providing much help.   
He sank in the chair his head blossoming into new clusters of pain at each movement. He groaned involuntarily. Even without the lyrium he could feel Mara summoning her magic. He tensed immediately, “No magic.”  
“Oh I’m sorry, did you become a healer recently?” through bleary eyes Cullen could see that Mara’s hand was on her hip, eyebrow cocked. “Trust me.”  
Cullen nodded. The pain was becoming unbearable. He would do anything for relief. He closed his eyes and felt Mara place her fingers gently on his temples. Her fingers were cold and the relief was immediate. The pain didn’t dissipate completely, but it had ebbed enough to make thinking possible. He had been to healers before to no avail. He was shocked that whatever she had done had alleviated the pain.   
“There,” Mara stepped back from him.   
“How did you do that? Healing magic has never helped these before.”  
Mara chuckled, “You haven’t been to a Dalish healer before have you? Healing is as much about the magic as the touch. I’m afraid I’m not that proficient of a healer. My keeper always said it was because I did not have the patience for it.”  
“You seem quite proficient to me,” he smiled weakly.   
“There’s a tea my Keeper used to make for a hunter in our clan. He got these debilitating headaches, and when he drank it at the first symptoms it would often make them bearable,” Mara returned the smile.   
She had one of those smiles that reached her eyes and made you feel that you were portraying yourself in your best light. He felt at ease. Considering. No wonder the people loved her. It was the first time a smile had really been directed at him. He felt the full force of it knock the air from his lungs.   
“Why are you avoiding me?” he blurted out. The words had come almost without summons. He tried to take them back, but it was too late.   
Mara’s smile disappeared. Her mouth became a thin line once again she sighed, “I haven’t been avoiding you...exactly. I was always taught to be wary of Templars -”  
“Ex-templar,” he corrected.  
“Yes, I know, but Varric also told me some stories….and I’m an apostate mage so I suppose I thought I’d leave it up to you,” Mara said eyes meeting his.   
Cullen considered her point of view. She was an apostate mage and he did have a history of distrusting mages, one that no doubt Varric had made illustrious with his storytelling. She had been cautious, practical.   
“You’re also not the most approachable person in Haven. What was I supposed to do? Wander up in the middle of your training recruits and strike up a conversation?” she shrugged, “I am sorry if I offended you.”  
“You didn’t….uh...I mean,” his hand rubbed the back of his neck. Why couldn’t he get his words to work? “I’m sorry for being offended over nothing.”  
Mara smiled again, “Next time I see you I’ll march right out onto the training field and demand to converse with you Commander.”  
Cullen laughed out loud of the image of her small frame marching over to him among all of the recruits in order to have a conversation, “I’ll hold you to it.”   
He looked around for the first time at his surroundings, he seemed to find himself in some sort of a makeshift library. There were books everywhere in the alcove. He definitely didn’t remember seeing this the last time he had been down here.   
“Did you do this?” he picked up a book sitting on the table next to the chair he was in. It was a dusty history volume on the Free Marches.   
Mara looked around proudly, “Yes. I love books. They’re rather rare among the Dalish and of course reading shem - human books is not looked on favorably. I sort of collected all the books I could find down here and grouped them together. It’s not much, but it’s more than I ever had with my clan.”  
Cullen imagined Mara squirrelling away any books she could find and getting chastised for reading human books. It was a whole facet of her he had never thought to look for. He glanced through the small collection hoping to find something he was familiar with. He saw the blue spine and smiled, picking up the familiar volume and handing it to her.   
“This is one of my favorites. One thing the circles were never lacking was books,” he said.   
She took the book with enthusiasm, “Well you seemed to have solved my problem. I was down here trying to decide which book to read.”  
“Glad to be of assistance. I should go.”  
“Alright,” she sank down into the other chair in the alcove, book in hand.   
“Good night, Herald,” he said turning to go.   
“Mara.”   
He turned back, “What?”  
“Just call me Mara. I’d like to forget the whole religious figurehead thing when I’m with my friends,” she sighed.   
“Goodnight, Mara,” he said with care. Her returning smile made him fumble a bit up the steps and it had nothing to do with his lingering headache.


End file.
